


(when we walked) in fields of gold

by The Amazing Bouncing Polecat (Rethira)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Afterlife, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-22
Updated: 2014-02-22
Packaged: 2018-01-13 09:35:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1221373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rethira/pseuds/The%20Amazing%20Bouncing%20Polecat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A single, perfect moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(when we walked) in fields of gold

Albus always sits underneath the tree, in the shade. He follows the shade in fact, and Gellert has often teased him about shuffling around so that he’s never out of the shade for more than a few seconds. Albus isn’t even aware he’s doing it, more often than not. He’ll sit under the tree and slowly rotate around it, nose buried too deeply in his latest book to realise how many hours are passing. One morning, Gellert left Albus by the tree and by the time he returned, Albus was sitting on entirely the opposite side, and had been quite disoriented when Gellert had taken his book away.

Today, Gellert has decided to stay with Albus, and is lying quite happily with his head in Albus’ lap. The first time Gellert had done so had led to Albus stuttering and blushing, but he has since gotten used to it, and, Gellert thinks, might even relish it. Albus is reading, as per usual, and so absorbed as to be quite useless for conversation. He barely even registers when Gellert rolls off his lap and stretches idly, contemplating a thought that has been bothering him for quite some time. Albus doesn’t notice the sly smile that graces Gellert’s delicate features, or the softly murmured spell that will render the pair of them invisible to prying eyes.

In fact, Albus only looks up when Gellert drops his shirt in front of him, and even then it takes a few seconds. Albus frowns adorably, so obviously aware that there is _something_ wrong, but loath to stop reading for even a single second. When he can finally tear his eyes away from the presumably fascinating text, Gellert has removed the rest of his clothes and is lying on the sun scorched grass, basking in it.

“ _Gellert_!” Albus cries, scandalised.

Gellert can’t help smiling, glancing back over his shoulder to where Albus is still sitting, now cherry red. “Care to join me, Albus?” he asks.

“ _Gellert_ , put your clothes back on,” Albus hisses, dropping his book and moving to get up. Gellert beats him to it, rolling to his feet with a grace that Gellert _knows_ Albus envies. Albus goes even redder and averts his gaze, although Gellert can see the way Albus’ eyes keep flickering back to him. Albus’ little reactions are _perfect_. Gellert is going to keep him forever. “ _Gellert_ ,” Albus says insistently.

“Don’t worry yourself so,” Gellert replies. “I put up some spells while you were reading. No-one will notice us.”

“That’s not the point, Gellert,” Albus replies. Albus’ blush is getting progressively worse.

Gellert stalks over to Albus, most definitely not laughing to himself when Albus’ composure takes a short holiday and a hunted look comes over Albus’ red face. “Then what _is_ the point, my friend?” Gellert asks. He pauses in front of Albus before kneeling, unable to contain his delight when Albus sputters and leans further back against the tree.

“ _Gellert_ ,” Albus says desperately, trying and failing to look anywhere but at Gellert.

Gellert smirks, and catches Albus’ chin. “Relax, Albus,” Gellert says, leaning forward to kiss him. Albus gasps sharply, and his hands flutter up to Gellert’s hips. They drop almost immediately, but Gellert uses his free hand to catch one and put it back, still kissing Albus. Albus whimpers softly into the kiss, and it’s _delightful_ , and then Albus starts kissing back. Gellert smiles and drops Albus’ chin in favour of drawing him closer.

When Gellert finally lets up, Albus is slightly flushed and has slid down the tree so he’s mostly lying on the grass. Gellert is crouched between Albus’ legs, half bent over him, one hand holding himself up, the other tangled in Albus’ glorious hair. The light is catching it just right through the leaves, and the grass is golden underneath them.

For a single second, the moment is perfect. Gellert could stay like this forever and never want for anything.

But then Albus’ blush deepens until he’s as red as all his Gryffindor belongings, and the sun moves, the wind picks up and a fly buzzes past Gellert’s head. _Almost perfect_ , Gellert tells himself, leaning down to kiss Albus again, _almost perfect_.

 

As his eyes shut, Gellert vaguely wishes that the last thing he saw before he dies could have been Albus.

 

Gellert opens his eyes to a field of gold. He knows this place; it’s just beyond Godric’s Hollow, and he and Albus had spent that summer coming here almost every day. In fact, Gellert realises, he can see their tree just over the hill. Gellert half smiles to himself and starts walking.

The grass brushes against his shins as he walks, and Gellert can feel the weight of life and age falling away from him, like an old coat he hadn’t realised he was wearing. A glance at his hands reveals that his skin is smoothing, the familiar wrinkles melting away until his skin is supple and young. His strides become easier, longer, as all the old aches and pains fade. Gellert could almost skip, if it weren’t quite so undignified. His back straightens, and soon enough Gellert is standing tall and proud again. Even his hair changes, regaining the bounce and blond curls of his youth.

By the time Gellert reaches the tree, he feels seventeen again and giddy with it. Some of the delight fades when he realises that Albus isn’t waiting for him under the tree, but there’s a pile of books resting beside it, and a small blanket, so Albus can’t be far. He can’t be gone long.

Gellert sits, resting against the tree, and time seems to slip away. Maybe he waits a handful of minutes, or maybe he waits days or weeks or months. Gellert doesn’t particularly care. He’s waited for Albus all his life, save that one too brief summer, and it’s fitting he should wait for Albus _after_ life as well. Eventually, there is a shadow.

Gellert opens his eyes to meet Albus’ gaze. Unlike him, Albus is still grey haired – although perhaps _white_ haired would be a better description – and looking down at Gellert over a pair of half-moon spectacles perched on the end of his crooked nose. Neither of those things matter particularly much; the eyes are the same, blue and twinkling like they always used to.

“We’re doing this the wrong way round,” Gellert comments, smiling slyly.

“I wasn’t aware there was a right way round,” Albus replies, pleasantly.

“I’m quite sure _you_ should be the one leaning against the tree, and I should be the one towering over you,” Gellert says loftily. He frowns slightly, noticing something new. “You’ve grown _taller_ ,” he says, sounding terribly affronted.

Albus chuckles, and it’s a _real_ , wonderful sound. “It’s good to see you Gellert,” he says, softly.

Gellert sniffs. “Well if you’d only visited more,” he says archly.

Albus smiles and his white hair turns to auburn, the glasses slip away – as does a good inch or two – and his nose straightens, just a little, and then _his_ Albus is back. “We both know why I didn’t,” Albus says, and Gellert is sure it’s not his imagination that Albus’ voice seems lighter, _freer_ than only a few seconds ago.

“No matter,” Gellert says, standing up. “No matter at all.” He moves closer, until he and Albus are close enough to touch.

A soft look comes across Albus’ face and he leans just forwards, and his hands come up and then Albus is resting his head on Gellert’s shoulder and his arms have wrapped around Gellert and _yes_ , Gellert decides, _this is the perfect moment._

And this time, it doesn’t end.


End file.
